Love Nonetheless
by Maejolra
Summary: <html><head></head>A story about loss, love, investigation, anguish and adventure. OC/Kitanji Megumi, may diverge from canon a bit.</html>
1. Chapter 1

Love is a curious thing. I didn't plan on falling for Megumi, but sometimes life throws at you a curveball, and you catch it as your body seems to move on its own. I think about this as I sluggishly make the breakfast at his kitchen. The poor thing is fast asleep on his bed, and I have not the courage to wake him up. Whatever his job is, it seems it's taking it toll on him.

I rub my eyes as the coffee-machine makes a sound to tell me the coffee is ready. I fill my cup and sip carefully, so not to burn my tongue. Ah! Sweet divine merciful morning liquid! Where would I be without you? Probably in bed, keeping company to Megumi... I hear sounds coming from the hallway, and my coffee-provoked smile grows. It's him.

"Hey, luv. Sweet dreams?", I ask, pouring him a cup of coffee too. Let it never be said I hog all the coffee to myself, despite claims of the contrary by part of my fellow teaching staff. Bunch of liars, all of them. Don't let them fool you.

He makes a noncommittal noise as he sits at the table and grabs the cup. I sit next to him and notice something strange. My dear was always reserved, I can deal with that. He's the type of man that likes to keep to himself, hold his cards close to his chest, not be bothered by outside noise. But what I see in his eyes is not the usual well-contained warmth that I'm used to seeing, but cold and sharp steel. A strong resolve. I sniff my coffee, did I make it too strong?

"Dear, is everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. No cause for worries."

He sighs, and runs his hand through the left side of my face, making me blush. I notice some sadness in his eyes, do I press on? No. Megumi is a reserved man, and he needs his space. He's not mine to control, and shouldn't be. Otherwise, he wouldn't be Megumi, would he?

"Say, darling,", that last word sounds foreign in his lips, but at this point I might be imagining things, reading too deeply in innocuous things. "Would you do me a favour?"

"Yes?"

"Wear this pin for me, would you? It's a work thing."

He pushes through the table towards me a red skull pin. Well, I didn't expect that. A relaxed sigh escapes my chest.

"Sure thing, luv. You made it sound so serious!"

I chuckle as I put the pin on my T-shirt. Everything fades to white.


	2. Chapter 2

My head hurts and I have no recollection of the past few... days? Weeks? ...Months? I feel violated somehow, and I don't know why. A bitter aftertaste lingers in my mouth. Where am I? I look around trying to get and idea of my location. My vision is still blurry, but I think I am at 104. The people around me seem to have had the same idea as me, and I lock my eyes on one of them. We stare at each other for a few moments, realizing we shared an experience. What the fuck happened?

Later this event would be known as one of the biggest shared psychological happenings of history. Other, more informed about the causes and motives behind this, would know this as the end of the "Long Game". I don't know about any of this now, of course. I get my cellphone and try to call Megumi to pick me up and help me, but no answer. For some reason I feel worse, a lot worse. I look at my phone and notice there is a **lot** of voice mail.

From my work.

Shit.

There's an eery silence while I, with some others, without saying a word, leave that place.

"So...", someone breaks the silence, still shaken by whatever happened. "Does somebody need a ride? I think I see my car there."

Some people politely decline, others, 3 or 4, feeling kinship for whatever we shared, accept his offer, others, myself included, simply continued walking in silence. I need to get home, hide under a bedsheet and try to calm myself. I don't know why I feel so disgusted, and my ignorance does not help me calm down.

Somehow I manage to get home. Megumi is nowhere to be seen. I don't mind this right now. In fact, though I want his help, the idea of him makes my head spin and my chest hurt, not in a good way. I bumble through the apartment until I find the bed, and fall on it.

5 hours pass. I can breathe calmly without entering a state of panic. My intermittent crying has stopped.

"Okay", I say to myself, staring at the white ceiling. "Everything is going to be okay... I am safe now." Breath in, breath out. "What do I have to do?"

I knew the answer for this question subconsciously, that's why I asked it. I need to explain my absence from my work. How long have I been absent? I get my phone from my pocket and search for the date. A week. I spent a week doing gods know what. I try to control my internal thought-stream of profanity. I fail. I am panicking again.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck...", I say, getting out of bed and running to the bathroom. I arrive, get on my knees, and start puking. I start crying once more.

_I can talk to the director tomorrow_, I think when I finally manage to catch my breath. _Yeah, it's probably better if I go tomorrow_. Weakly, I fall asleep resting my head on the toilet. I sleep a dreamless sleep, and wake up with a clearer head and a hurting neck. I get up, flush the toilet and start getting ready to face the day. Maybe not face it per se, but at least acknowledge it and try to get the control of my life back in my hands.

After a shower, I walk to the kitchen and make me some coffee. Megumi is still nowhere to be seen. I call him, and still no response. I sip my coffee, but my stomach is still weak, so I quickly push it away from me. _Is he alright? Was he affected to? Is he still affected? _A chill runs through my spine. I call him again; no response. I make some plain toasts, my stomach is not really ready for anything else right now, and call the school.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Nidori here."

"Nidori?!", the voice exclaims, then a pause ensues. I hear some talking on the background. Uh oh. The voice starts talking again with a new, harsher, tone. "Look, you really need to come here. The director wants to talk to you."

That... doesn't sound good.

"Oh... ok. I'll pass there later today, alright?"

"Alright."

They hang up... things could've gone better. They didn't sound very happy for sure. I sigh.

This is going to be a long day.


	3. Chapter 3

Things are not as good as I hoped. I fidget on the chair I'm on, trying to not let show how nervous I am. And failing. Damn it, I'm a teacher here, not a student. I'm not supposed to feel like that anymore! As I pass my hand through the leather of the chair's arms, I remember, rather vividly, the last time I was sent to the director's office, when I was still a student, in another school.

"_Fade in. Location: A sunlit waiting room. There's a sofa near the door, and two chairs near the secretary's workstation. Three teenagers are sitting on the sofa, taking turns to look at each other, faces marked with worry. A young Nidori has his hands closed into fists, resting on his thig__h__s. There where some highlight on his hair, and a piercing on his tongue._

_ 'Guys, I'm starting to think that maybe that was a dumb idea.", said the kid at Nidori's left._

_ 'I regret nothing.', replied Nidori. 'Though I admit I'm nervous about this.', he added._

_ 'We didn't do anything wrong. And we certainly didn't hurt anyone.', added the boy to his right._

_ 'Oh? Why don't you try to tell that to the director personally?', asked the boy to his left._

_ 'We brought more happiness to this world.', Nidori retorted, closing his eyes and acquiring new confidence. 'I see nothing wrong with that.'._

_ Meanwhile, the secretary heard and saw the whole exchange silently. She smiled inwardly. One of the perks of her job was seeing the students squirm before a meeting with the director. Not that she hated the students, or somesuch, but it would be a lie if she said that she didn't have a kind of sadistic streak. That, and she found it cute when the students got nervous about some minor problem that, to her eyes, seemed so inconsequential from outside._

_ The director's office door opens, and after the previous person exits, Nidori takes a deep breath and stands up._

_ 'I will go first. You stay here and calm yourselves until it's your turn, ok? Everything will work out in the end.', he grinned at them, somewhat unconvincingly._"

I wake up from my revelry. Holy mother of all gods, what has happened to me? I was so much braver before! And look at me now, getting nervous about meeting my boss, crying for gods know why. I'm really a failure, aren't I? What sort of example am I setting for the kids? I always prided myself for being the "cool" person, the one that you could trust, the one that would protect anyone who needed protection. Did I become that? Was it really mere illusion?

Why am I feeling this now, I wonder? No matter. I lift my head up. If I am not my ideal self, I will become him. Let whatever will come come. I might get fired, and that will suck, but I've been jobless before, I can survive. Probably.

"You can enter now.", said the secretary apathetically.

The director's office door does not open, she must have been on a phone call, or simply wanted to make me wait needlessly. No matter. I stand up and walk into her office. She looks at my beneath her glasses, and makes a gesture for me to sit down. Gazing onto her eyes, I sit.

"As you know, there is a certain level of decorum demanded by this institution.", she starts. No nonsense, huh? Well, there goes my hope that this little reunion would be harmless.

"Of course."

"Then, would you be so kind to explain me this?"

She turns her computer monitor towards me and starts a video. It was amateurish, camera, probably from a phone, trembling slightly. I am confused about the meaning of this until I see the camera focusing on me. The light makes some weird effect on my eyes, making them see red. The "cameraman" approaches me, making the words I was reciting clear.

_"To right the countless wrongs of our days, we shine for redemption. Oh, what a wonderful world would that be..."_

Reciting quite eerily, might I add.

"So?", the director looks at my face expectantly. Foolish fool, I am a drama teacher! My face let none of my worries visible! I lock eyes with her.

"That was... a post-modern street performance piece of art.", I say, bulshitting my way through the interrogation.

"... A post-modern street performance piece of art?", she says, clearly suspicious.

"A post-modern street performance piece of art.", I reply, sticking to my guns.

"A post-modern street performance piece of art.", she enunciates, irony dripping from her voice.

"A post-modern street performance piece of art.", I repeat, nodding at her sagely.

"A post- You know what? Let's drop this charade.", she says, losing her patience. Inwardly I smiled for this small victory.

She opens her desk-drawer, and puts a newspaper on her desk. She points at a notice. It reads: _"Massive __Psychological Outbreak at Shibuya!"_. Shit.

"A post-modern street performance piece of art?", she asks victoriously, though not quite happy.

"Oh. Well. That."

"Yeah."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

There's a moment of silence. She sighs.

"Look, Nidori, you know I have nothing against you, except for the fact that you hog all the coffee to yourself-"

"I most certainly do not!", I protest, justly.

"But this is serious. I've got parents up to my tits complaining about the safety of their kids.", she concludes, not caring for my interjection.

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"You never talk like this, you say it's unprofessional. That means I'm fired, right?"

"Yeah."

"Shit."

"Quite."

We share a moment of silence while I think about my options. It wasn't so bad, actually. By firing me before scheduling a psychological examination for me they were doing so without just cause. I would get a compensation for this. Still, I liked being a teacher, very much, actually. I sniff.

"Want a tissue?", she offers. I gladly accept it.

"Thanks, it's just... it's been some week."

"I know.", she says sympathetically.

"Of course you do.", I roll my eyes.

"You are still invited for the parties, and this year's graduation."

"Thanks. Really, that's... thanks.", I say, meaning each word, and much beyond them.

"No problem.", she replies. "Hope we can still be friends."

"Sure, it's just... some week...", I trail off, sighing. She looks at me pityingly.

"Look, why don't you get back home and rest? This is a lot to take in, tomorrow we finish this."

"No, let's get this done with. I need tomorrow to start looking for my disappeared boyfriend.", I say flippantly, trying to make light of the pain I'm feeling, as if that would make it softer and easier to deal with. It doesn't.

"Some week, huh?"

"Yeah..."

She gets all the papers on the table, and after we go through them, she extends her hand to me. I shake it slightly numb.

"It was an honor working with you."

"Likewise."

I would not let my joblessness hinder me. I wouldn't be helpless anymore.

It's time I start taking control of my destiny.


End file.
